


Making Up Love As We Go

by Shabby Abby (KJPearl)



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Competitive Flirting, Fake Marriage, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, UST makes simple touches very /meaningful/, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-07
Updated: 2016-10-07
Packaged: 2018-08-20 02:05:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8232274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KJPearl/pseuds/Shabby%20Abby
Summary: If Nureyev wanted to play-act at marriage for Angstrom, Juno would give as good as he got. He could flirt right back, see how Nureyev liked it. If he, with all his declarations of love, would be affected.An alternate direction for episode 14.





	

“Dahlia, dearest,” Nureyev had called him. Juno was starting to get an idea of where this plan was going and he wasn’t sure he liked it. Not when he couldn’t trust Nureyev. Could barely trust himself around the man. He remembered the kiss that had sung through his veins and tempted him to just give in. To learn more about the stranger who he knew was a liar and a criminal. The stranger who had haunted him. He remembered Nureyev’s scent which had lingered in his house for weeks after the man left. Taunting him with that strange foreign spice he could never place.

 And Juno had to admit, at least to himself, that in the first moment he’d seen the man in his apartment, before his rational mind jumped to anger, he’d felt happy. Happy to see the man who had betrayed him. But also the man who his stupid heart longed for. Juno took in the room Nureyev had gotten them, a honeymoon suite and one large bed. He tried not to imagine Nureyev stretched out on it, half-dressed and in disarray. He failed miserably. Then he saw the note.

_Off to find Angstrom. Will call. Miss you already._

_-Duke Rose_

They were playing a married couple. Nureyev must have known what that would do to Juno. The man had kissed him for God’s sake, and flirted with him still. Whether this was meant to get Juno to lower his guard or just for Nureyev’s sick pleasure didn’t matter. He wouldn’t let Nureyev mess with him like this. His comms rang.

“Dahlia!” Nureyev’s voice filtered through the speakers, “So you found the room after all. Marvelous, marvelous.”

“Yeah, sure. Marvelous,” Juno muttered back.

“Well dear, you can always take a few of the pills the doctor gave you if you’re feeling bloated,” that complete ass, Juno thought as Nureyev continued, more nervously, “I told you about Mr. Angstrom, well he says a game has just opened up and I’ll need you down here immediately.”

“Sounds like you’ve got it under control,” Juno knew his childish petulance bled through, but he was still pissed as hell at Nureyev, “What makes this so important that I’ve got to be there?”

“You’re my good luck charm, Dahlia. If I could do this without you, I would have left you at home,” his voice was noticeably strained.

“Fine. I’m on my way. What room?”

“Oh, one of Mr. Angstrom’s friends will be by to help you any moment now,” a knock on the door, “Ah that must be her. Don’t keep her waiting. Oh, and do wear that suit I love so much, will you? I hung it in the closet for you.”

“You bought me clothes?” the man was unbelievable.

“Don’t say I never get you anything,” Juno could hear the smirk, “See you soon.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming.”

Juno went to the closet and found the suit. It looked fancy as hell and when he went to pick it up Juno felt the smooth material. Something he couldn’t name, probably worth more creds than he made in a month. He changed into it as quickly as he could then looked in the mirror. The suit had been ironed straight and it sat snugly against him, perfectly form fitting. It must have been tailored. Juno barely had a moment to consider where Nureyev could have gotten his measurements before he was interrupted by a second impatient knock and a smooth, feminine voice calling out, “Hurry up!”

Juno opened the door for Angstrom’s goon and quickly tried to size her up. Not your average bodyguard, rather than bursting muscles and a stupid expression she looked both lithe and smart. A tricky one with no visible weapons. And she smoked like a chimney. As she led him down to the game room his mind wandered back to Nureyev. His stupid pretty face and body and well, everything. He was a tricky one too. Layers of lies like an infinite Matryoshka doll. Take off one mask, find another. And now he’d dragged Juno back into his sphere. Back in with his confusing looks and constant flirting. And the perfect excuse for that if they were supposed to be married.

Then it hit Juno, if the man wanted to play-act at marriage, Juno would give as good as he got. He could flirt right back, see how Nureyev liked it. If he, with all his declarations of love, would be affected.

Valencia led him into a dark room, candle lit and old fashioned in a way that spoke of money to waste on such luxuries. Juno fought the urge to cough from the smoke which twisted out from Angstrom’s cigar and hung in the room like a fog. Angstrom and Nureyev sat on either side of a poker table, staring each other down. Nureyev noticed the new arrivals first and called out, “Dahlia! There you are.”

“Hi, honey,” Juno purred, trying to hide his annoyance. Nureyev had seemed to light up when Juno entered the room though whether that was due to his feelings about Juno, satisfaction at having the detective as backup, or just his acting skill was impossible to tell. Juno knew which one his treacherous heart hoped for and hated it.

“Thank you, Valencia,” Angstrom said, then he turned to Juno, eyeing him up predatorily. His eyes lingered, taking in every inch of Juno’s silhouette that was highlighted by the carefully tailored suit, “Dahlia Rose, your husband’s told me so much about you. Have a seat please.”

Juno went to go sit, ignoring the chair set out next to Nureyev in favor of sitting in his lap. He felt Nureyev tense in surprise for a moment before he hid it, wrapping an arm around Juno’s waist and easily supporting his weight.

“Valencia if you will,” Angstrom gestured to the table.

“Yes, Mr. Angstrom,” she began to set up some kind of card game.

 “The game your husband and I agreed upon takes some time to prepare so let’s get to know each other a bit, shall we? Drink?”

“Heavily,” Juno was going to need it. He was hyper-aware of every inch of Nureyev wrapped around him. His arm around Juno, his chest against his back, heartbeat into Junos’ own. Maybe this hadn’t been the best idea. Only the thought that this must have been affecting Nureyev as well helped Juno keep his cool. Angstrom poured him a glass and Juno held it out to Nureyev.

“Well, honey?” Juno asked. He held out the drink for Nureyev to try, knowing he would detect any poisons. Nureyev drank.

“It’s a very nice, darling. A merlot, your favorite,” Nureyev handed the drink back to him. Juno gave him the pleased smile of a demanding husband whose whims had been satisfied as he drank, lips touching the same spot Nureyev’s had. An indirect kiss, he remembered hearing it called.

“Duke was just telling me, Dahlia, that you two lifted the coveter’s jewel during its museum tour in the outer rim,” Angstrom probed.

Juno turned away from Nureyev to face Angstrom with the annoyed look Dahlia would give at being pulled away from his husband. Unfortunately for Juno, it wasn’t entirely faked.

“That does sound like my Duke,” Juno said. He curled closer to Nureyev and brushed his lips against the man’s neck, feeling a smug satisfaction at his barely audible gasp.

“I’m surprised word about the jewel hasn’t made it to Mars. It was very big job on the outer rim,” as Nureyev spoke his hand lowered to Juno’s hip, apparently taking the kisses Juno continued to pepper along his neck and jaw as invitation.

“The outer rim is a very small pond, Rose. Your whales hardly rank for minnows here.”

Juno pulled away from Nureyev, “My feelings exactly, Mr. Angstrom,” it was easy to play the part of a bored house-husband, longing for more wealth and excitement.

“That’s why we thought we ought to sell that rock and use the cash to go after something really exciting,” Nureyev continued, “And that’s when we stumbled across you know…”

“Plans to stop the Utgard Express. If you don’t mind my asking, Mr. Rose, if you _can_ stop that train what are you doing here? You should be out there looting to your heart’s content.”

“I’ve been wondering the same thing,” Juno turned to Nureyev with an over exaggerated pout, as if this was an argument they’d had before and he was getting sick of it. Nureyev just responded with an indulgent smile that sent Juno’s heart racing. He found himself wishing, desperately, that this was real. That he and Nureyev could have this life of exciting cons, well-worn mannerism, and practiced squabbles.

“Well, there’s the Utgard security team isn’t there? If there’s any sign the train is stopped, within sixty seconds we’d be drowning in guards and that’s not nearly enough time to get what we need. But you, Mr. Angstrom, I hear you know how to get on that train without alerting security,” Nureyev said.

“And so here we are,” Angstrom said, “You can stop the train but not board it. I can board the train but can’t leave once I’ve done so. Each of us has information the other needs but cannot allow the other to learn. This would be an impasse…were it not for our game. The most complicated game in the galaxy, they say.”

“Sounds like the perfect game for you, Duke,” Juno placed a proud and possessive hand on Nureyev’s arm. Nureyev responded with a bright grin and Juno felt his own smile grow to match it. Stupid emotions.

“A game of wagers where the stakes don’t come in creds, but rather questions, information. We call it Rangian Street Poker.”

“The game is ready Mr. Angstrom,” Valencia said.

Juno turned his attention to the table and gaped, “That’s the game? There’s gotta be a hundred decks on the table!”

“Can we talk our way through the first hand,” Nureyev asked Angstrom as he ran his hand along Juno’s hip as if to soothe him, “Dahlia gets a little cranky when he feels left out.”

“If you insist. Your ask, Rose,” Angstrom said.

“Very generous of you. So, Dahlia, one of us asks a question to start the round. Let’s start with, um, how do we get aboard the Utgard Express?” Nureyev leaned in as he explained. This put him close enough that Juno could feel Nureyev’s breath grazing his air as he spoke. He fought the urge to shiver.

“This game’s not ending that quickly.”

“Now Mr. Angstrom counters with his own question and, if I agree to it, we play a hand to see which of us gets his question answered. The counter-asker can’t refuse the question. Only the asker can turn down the round.”

“Like so, how do I stop the Utgard Express?”

“I’ll pass of course,” Nureyev chuckled.

“So if he doesn’t like your question he has to ask something you don’t want to answer,” Juno asked.

“Just so,” Angstrom confirmed, “Ah, I nearly forgot. One last matter of business. In a game where each player stakes the truth we must, of course, address the punishment for lying. So let us discuss your collateral,” his hungry eyes returned to Juno. Juno found himself instinctively leaning back towards Nureyev for…safety. That was so not good. Even worse, when Nureyev’s arm tightened around him he honestly felt protected. As if an arm could help. As if Nureyev, with his fake smile, fake names, fake everything would even try to help.

“We’re just going by standard variation rules aren’t we? If I lie you kill me if you lie I kill you?” Nureyev laughed, “That’s a rule as old as human civilization, Mr. Angstrom. I think I can follow it.”

“How good to know I’m playing with an honest man. Detective Steele would you mind passing me my drink?”

“Get it yourse- What did you just call me?” and just like that it was over. Their ruse had been caught, but what Juno felt worst about was the loss of Nureyev’s arm around him.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes half this dialogue is lifted from the episode. Clearly that's not mine. Unbetaed so sorry for any errors.  
> I may make a sequel about the bed sharing, who knows.  
> @abby-not-too-shabby on tumblr.


End file.
